Are You Shocked?

To be quite frank, my life-long love affair with boats is not wholly centered on the Betty Jane. I also love sailboats (I've owned several), ships, tugboats, gheenoes, rowboats, inflatables, schooners, pushboats, belly boats, ferries, rafts, barges, oil-field supply vessels, sportfishing battlewagons, speedboats, and, last but not least, canoes. And every year, for the past few years, I have thoroughly enjoyed this last objet trouve by doing a canoe-camping trip to northern Ontario with my brother Mike.

The venue is always the same for reasons I guess you'll begin to appreciate by briefly perusing this photo of one of our most recent campsites. The photo was taken by yours truly toward the middle of last September and, if the truth be told, leaves out a couple of important details. Like the fact that this particular spot was so remote that packs of wolves howled every night nearby (and sometimes during the day) and bears swam a slough just a few miles from camp. And like the fact that this particular spot was suffused with an energizing aura of sweet, clean air and cool sun-spangled evergreen.

We usually do a little fishing on these canoe-inspired excursions. I take a fly rod and Mike tends to go with spinning tackle. This past September we caught zilch...never even got a bite. This was probably due to the coldness of the water in the myriad lakes within the huge provincial park we favor. We didn't have the right gear for the conditions, I guess.

Did I ever think of my ol' Betty while snoozing the evenings away in our tent? Or sitting around the campfire staring into the flames while listening to the wolfy music? Or paddling down the immense lakes in the Old Town? Or lugging our entire kit across the sloggy portages?

Heck yes. After all:

I love canoes and all the rest, but Betty Jane I love the best!